


The Garden

by aztecwarfareandcrumping



Category: The Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Bromance, Gen, Introspection, angsty Esca, of course, there are feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aztecwarfareandcrumping/pseuds/aztecwarfareandcrumping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esca was more at ease in the garden, Marcus found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Garden

**Author's Note:**

> This was more written with the book versions of the characters in mind, but I think it works either way. And I know it's plotless and nothing happens. So sue me.

Esca was more at ease in the garden, Marcus found. The Briton would strictly keep to his slavish duties when he was in the house, but once away from everyone, when it was just the two of them, Esca would seem calmer, more relaxed. So Marcus found reasons to be in the garden more often.

  
Marcus was teaching Esca how to play droughts. He was picking it up rather quickly, his grey eyes flitting across the board and up to Marcus’s face, then down again to decide his next move. He thought Esca enjoyed playing: he had bullied Marcus into the reclining chair, set up a small table next to his hip, and crouched on the other side, looking up expectantly.

“Shall we play again, Centurion?” he asked, a slight teasing tone in his voice that made Marcus smile.

So they played. Esca was getting better: Marcus had to pay attention to beat him now. When Esca’s piece made the last move and won the game, the slave grinned up at his master cheekily.

“You’ve done it now, Esca: you’ve outwitted your teacher!” Marcus grudgingly admitted.

“It was not too hard,” Esca said, grinning slowly. “You are getting slow and fat in your idleness.”

Marcus stared for a moment in fake shock, then reached to cuff Esca affectionately. The Briton pushed away from the table, tauntingly staying just out of reach. Marcus levered himself to his feet, pushing the table aside and launching himself at Esca. Caught off guard for a moment because of watching Marcus worriedly, Esca tumbled to the ground under Marcus. The two young men tumbled across the springy grass for a few meters, both grappling for the upper hand. Marcus was able to roll on top of Esca and hold him for a few minutes, but the smaller man quickly slipped out of his grasp, pushing Marcus’s shoulders firmly to the ground. Both scrabbled for a few more minutes, fingers trying to find purchase on cotton tunics, arms tangling and trying to restrain. Both men laughed breathlessly as they wrestled good-naturedly.

Then a voice shattered it all.

“Marcus?”

Cottia’s voice was questioning and a bit worried. Marcus felt Esca go suddenly stiff beneath him, and he rolled off. Esca jumped to his feet, quickly putting the proper three paces between them and pasting on the customary slack-faced look that slaves wore. Marcus felt his heart clench at the sight and moved to stand and move towards Esca when Cottia’s voice interrupted again.

“What were you doing?” she asked, pushing aside a curtain of hair that threatened to hide her face.

“Playing.” Marcus said, glancing at Esca. The slave didn’t move or meet his eyes.

Cottia looked interested. “Is that how men normally play? You looked like Cub when he catches a squirrel. I feared one of you would get hurt.”

Esca briefly looked angered by the suggestion that he would have hurt Marcus, but quickly schooled his expression back to indifference.

“It was in fun, I assure you, Cottia.” Marcus said soothingly, still torn between happiness at seeing his small shadow and sadness at Esca’s aloofness.

Cottia “humph”-ed, nodding her head emphatically. Marcus wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say something to that, so he stood. His leg clenched painfully and Marcus let out a small suppressed hiss. Esca was at his side immediately, hands holding Marcus’s shoulders, eyes meeting Marcus’s questioningly. Marcus closed his eyes for a moment, breathing through the pain, then waved Esca off. Cottia looked at Marcus appraisingly.

“I don’t think you ought to be rolling around on the ground any more. You,” here she turned to Esca, eyes flashing protectively. “Should be more careful of your master.”

Esca’s jaw tightened. “I know my duty.” he grunted.

Cottia looked apologetic as she realized her forwardness.

“Why don’t I have Stephanos bring some drinks out? Then we can all sit and talk for a time.” Marcus cut in, afraid something damaging might be said. Cottia agreed and Esca trotted off to find the old slave.

“I don’t think he likes me very much.” Cottia mused as she watched Esca’s back disappear around a corner.

“I don’t think he likes anyone very much.” Marcus said in a half-hearted attempt at humor.

“He does you.”

Marcus turned to look at Cottia. “How do you mean?”

“The way he looks at you. Can’t you tell he is fond of you?”

Marcus had never thought of Esca as a person who was fond of things. The slave came back into sight, bringing a jar and two goblets. “For the Centurion and his guest.” Esca intoned.

“Did you bring one for yourself?” Marcus asked. Esca shook his head. Marcus gestured for him to sit, and the younger man sat on the ground near Marcus’s knee.

Cottia watched them as they all continued talking. When Marcus was talking, Esca would look up at him, a certain softening around his eyes making him look less angry. If Esca deigned to add a comment, Marcus would affectionately tousle his hair, and the younger man would lean into the touch. Every so often Marcus would hand off his goblet and Esca would take a few sips and hand it back. It made Cottia feel ever so slightly left out.

Finally Marcus tried to stifle a yawn and Esca sprang to his feet. “You are tired. You should rest, now.”

Marcus nodded sleepily. “Thank you for coming over, Cottia.”

The girl smiled. “I enjoyed seeing you, Marcus. I hope you continue to feel better.”

Esca kept his back to Cottia as he helped Marcus to his feet.

“I hope I have not offended you in some way, Esca.” she added.

The slave shook his head, though his face was as unreadable as ever. Cottia disappeared through the hedge.

“Why are you unkind to her, Esca?” Marcus asked.

Esca stood close to Marcus’s side, letting him rest a hand on his shoulder as a prop. “I am not unkind. I know my place.”

Marcus let his fingers stroke the rough cloth of Esca’s tunic. “She thinks you do not like her.”

“She thinks I would hurt you.” Esca snapped, eyes flashing as they met Marcus’s. “I would lay down my life to assure your safety, and yet this vixen taunts me.” Esca turned his head away, cursing himself for blurting out what he was thinking.

Marcus gently pushed Esca’s chin, encouraging the younger man to look at him. “I know.” he whispered.

They stood for a moment looking at each other, then Esca carefully looped an arm around Marcus’s waist.

“It is getting cold. You should be inside.”

Marcus hobbled towards the villa, hand still clutching Esca’s shoulder.


End file.
